A Slip In Time (30 page)

“Do you deny it? Do you deny having
entertained men, here, in your bedchamber, at all hours the
night?”

Sybil paced the room, her eyes roaming every
corner and cranny as though she expected to find someone concealed
in their shadows.

“I’ve
entertained
no one.” Julia lifted
her chin, clutching her thin robe over her chest, knowing it was
quite obvious she was naked beneath.

When her aunt had
continued to demand entry to her chamber, Julia and Rae could
think of no recourse but to close the door of Time between them.
With a parting kiss, Julia removed her ring and the room reverted
to its normal state in the future. In her race to clothe herself,
she seized on the first thing she saw, her silk
robe,
lying
at the end of the bed.

Sybil halted her pacing and rounded on
Julia. Eyeing her niece’s robe, she smiled thinly.

“I don’t know what amusements took
place within these walls, but the marquis, Lord Muir, was seen
leaving your room on a number of occasions. And, on several more,
he left with friends! Really, Julia, did your parents raise you
wholly devoid of morals?”

Julia bristled at her aunt’s slur on
her parents, but Sybil paid no regard and continued to spit her
venom.

“What is your game, niece? To beguile
the marquis at any cost? To so enamor him with your pale beauty and
acquiescence, he will keep you near, in the comfort of his great
fortune?”

Sybil took a step closer, lifting an arched
brow.

“Or is it something more? Perhaps, you
expect the marquis to fall mindlessly in love with you, marry you,
and begat a brat on you to whom his titles would then soon pass.
That’s it, isn’t it?” Her eyes glowed with a menacing light. “While
you are elevated to marchioness, Roger would lose his inheritance.
Widowed, you would personally control Lord Muir’s fortune for many
years in the name of your son. Yes, you’d like besting the
Symingtons, cheating Lilith out of the position and privileges to
which she is entitled.”

Julia stared at her aunt, stunned by
her interpretation and astonished that she had slipped Lilith into
the conversation. Clearly, her aunt was not distressed in the least
that the family name might be tarnished by her actions, only that
Lilith’s shining future might be thwarted.

“Well, you shan’t have a chance to
spoil Lilith’s, that is Roger’s, inheritance,” Sybil snapped. “You
will pack your trunks immediately and prepare to leave. You are
returning to Hampshire, where you belong. I have already dispatched
a letter to Lady Arabella.”

“Would that be
this
letter?”

The two women turned as one to find
Lord Muir standing in the doorway. Surprisingly, though dawn was
just now peeking through the windows, he was fully attired in
jacket and kilt. The pouches under his eyes were pronounced, as
though he’d yet to sleep that night. In his hand, he held a neat
packet, sealed with a glob of red wax.

Lord Muir glared at Sybil, having obviously
heard her tirade.

“Angus came to me, good man that he
is, advising me of your request and asking to be excused of his
morning duties in order to post your missive. I assured him I would
see to it personally.” Lord Muir tucked the letter into his jacket.
“Have no fear. I will post your letter, along with my own to dear
Arabella. I see that surprises you. Yes, I know your mother-in-law.
Rather well, actually.”

He stroked his snowy mustache, letting
his words hang meaningfully on the air. “I presume Arabella is as
full of salt and vinegar as ever?”

Julia found herself smiling, despite her
surprise at his comments. Sybil still had yet to find her tongue.
When she did, a moment later, and attempted to speak, Lord Muir cut
her off.

“Whatever my nephew told you of my
friendship with your niece was undoubtedly a lie. Her deportment
is, and has been, at every moment, above reproach.”

Julia dropped her
gaze
, wondering if he would sing her praises so
quickly if he knew she’d twice lain with Rae Mackinnon.

“Your lordship.” Sybil’s voice stung
the air. “Do you deny Julia permitted you and your colleagues into
her chamber in the dead of night?”

“She did indeed, at my request, but
you misunderstand the purpose of our gatherings. They are purely of
a scientific nature. I could explain it all to you, though I doubt
you’d believe any of the sensational claims I would make.
Nonetheless, our investigations will soon be made public in London
to the Society and your niece will, no doubt, become quite famous
for it.”

“No doubt,” Sybil sniped.

“Believe what you will, Lady Sybil,
but I do promise you this. Attempt to malign Julia’s fine name or
send her from Dunraven, and you’ll find yourself and your daughter
packed off as well, and I shall place Roger under threat of
disinheritance should he ever marry Lilith.”

“You wouldn’t!” Sybil
shrilled.

“And don’t think he’ll circumvent me
on charges I’ve lost my wits. I assure you, I move in rather elite
and enlightened circles, with a multitude of friends who can vouch
for my soundness. Now consider my next words carefully. I believe
myself still quite able to sire a son and heir, and might decide to
put myself to the test if Roger, or you and your precious Lilith,
vex me any further.”

Sybil compressed her lips to a thin line,
her nostrils flaring, and stalked from the chamber. Lord Muir
watched her departure, then he directed his gaze to Julia.

“This has been a most unfortunate
encounter. We realized such might happen, still I am sorry for it.
I will leave you to recover, my dear, however, there is something
I need to share with you. My colleagues and I have been working
through the night, going over the data we’ve accumulated. We have
come to some fresh conclusions.”

He paused and stroked his beard, his brows
pulling downward.

“I am sorry, Julia. My news is not
good.”

»«

“Sh-h-h now,
mo cáran,
we knew this
moment would come.”

“But so soon?” Julia’s arms tightened
about Rae’s waist, tears slipping over her cheeks.

“Explain tae me once more, the path o’
their thoughts.”

Reluctantly, Julia
released her hold on Rae and sat back on the blanket they shared,
spread amidst a field of purple heather
. She glanced
overhead to where the swollen moon hung in the daylight sky, like a
pale, misshapen disc. She palmed her tears away.

“It is the men’s belief that, on the
night of the Full Moon, the door between our times will
close.”

Her lips quivered and Rae immediately
surrounded her with his arms, drawing her against his chest. She
drew a steadying breath and continued.

“Lord Muir explained that the time
slips began with the New Moon, when the moon’s energies were at
their weakest. The time door opened — and continues to open — wider
and wider. That is, the hours and minutes it remains open are
increasing. He told me to imagine a door blowing open on a breeze
which grows stronger, holding the door open wide and for longer
periods.”

Julia sent Rae a small smile at the
simpleness of the analogy and found him nodding.

“I ken. Gae on.”

“At the time of the Full Moon, the
energies will reach their peak. Lord Muir and the others speculate,
once the moon waxes full and begins to wane, there will be a
‘reversal’ effect. The time door will slam closed, and the force of
the moon’s energies will work in an opposing direction, holding
the door shut.”

Julia moistened her lips. “None of the
men have been able to determine how the phenomenon began, what
activated it. There is no telling whether the door will open again,
or when precisely.”

Julia was keenly aware that Lord Muir
had occupied the tower chamber intermittently for two decades
before the first time slip occurred. The door had then remained
closed for another twenty years. True, the stone in his sword, and
the one in her ring, had somehow affected the commencement of the
time slips, but there was no way of knowing how long the door would
remain shut.

Julia lifted her gaze to Rae, her
lashes wet with tears. “I will wait for you, my love, however long
I must. I will remain at Dunraven with hope in my heart that we
will yet meet again.”

Rae drew her tight in his
arms. “I, too, shall wait for ye,
mo
cáran,
by all that is holy.”

His words pierced her heart with love,
bittersweet.

“You have a destiny to fulfill, my
darling.”

He started to object but she lay her
fingertips to his lips.

“You
must
fulfill your destiny, you must
take a wife.

“You are my wife. We are handfasted—”

“Only in the present we now share. When Time
closes its door and ceases to shift—” She could scarce coax the
words from her throat. “I’ll not yet be born in your own time, and
I’ll be as a widow in mine. Either way, the ties of our handfasting
will be dissolved.”

“Dissolved by law, mayhap, but no’ in
m’heart,
mo
cáran
.”

“
Still, you must marry. Lord Muir
cannot be born without your help.” Julia offered him a shakly
smile. “It is not only important to him, but also to me. It is only
through Lord Muir’s kindness that I shall be able to remain at
Dunraven and wait for you.”

Seeing the pain reflected in his eyes,
Julia withdrew her hand and pressed her lips to his. Slipping her
arms about his neck, she drew him down with her onto the
blanket.

As their kisses caught
fire and their passions engulfed them
, he freed her
from her shirtwaist and camisole. Brief moments later, she fully
appre
ciated the versatility of Highland
dress and its ready accommodation to any given moment, especially
now as their bodies melded to one amidst the heather.

»«

On Julia’s return to Dunraven, she
discovered that more of Lord Eaton’s guests from Braxton had
arrived from their sojourn to the spa at Strathpeffer.

When Julia appeared at tea, they greeted her
with tacit coolness and excluded her from their conversations.
Later, at dinner, Julia found her presence barely acknowledged and
only then with wintry glares.

Lord Eaton smiled smugly from his place at
the far end of the table. Clearly, in recompense for spurning him,
he had set a buzz about the castle, intimating her involvement in a
scandalous affair. Or had he used Lilith and Aunt Sybil to spread
his poison? Julia slid a glance to them, but they held themselves
aloof and kept their eyes averted.

To Julia’s dismay, on this of all
nights, the marquis and his associates chose to take their meal in
the upper library as they continued to work at a feverish pitch
over their books and computations. Julia faced the lions’ den
alone.

Many of the women — Lady Bigsby, Lady
Downs, Lady Reynolds and her twin daughters, Ava and Ada, among
them — regarded her with undisguised looks of disgust. Lord
Withrington would not meet her eyes, while Lady Charles bore
sympathy in her own.

Someone related with great relish how
Sampson Dilcox had packed his belongings soon after his arrival
from Strathpeffer and set off for London, stricken by some news
he’d received. On the other hand, Rokeby, Aunt Sybil’s ever-present
and attentive admirer, sent Julia lascivious glances down the
table.

Emmaline and Sir Robert, bless them,
remained supportive and obviously unbelieving of the claims against
her. Were it not for them, Julia did not believe she could have
forborne the evening.

Lord Eaton continued to watch from his
place, a superior smile slanting across his face and firing his
eyes. Julia met his gaze evenly and felt his unspoken challenge.
Affording him a response, she shifted her eyes to the cut that yet
marred his lip and to the high collar that hid his scratches. A
measure of satisfaction spread through her. Julia rose in place.
Having endured more than enough for one evening, she withdrew
without comment to her chamber.

“Might I walk with ye,
miss?”

Julia looked with surprise to Angus McNab,
who waited at the base of the great staircase in the entrance
hall.

“‘
Twould comfort his lordship to know
ye arrived safely at yer chamber without any troubles along the
way.”

Julia tilted her head. “Did Lord Muir
send you?”

“Aye, that he did, after he had a wee
bit of a talk with the staff — McGinty, Betty, Tom, and I. Not the
new help from town, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Some of the others fear his lordship
has gone daft.” He thumped his fore and middle fingers on the side
of his head. “But me, I’ve known Himself for many a year now. A
good man, he is. An honest man, and his mind is sharp as any. If he
says black is white, and Highland cattle have legs shorter on one
side than the other, then ‘tis so.”

Angus suddenly stopped, turning to
Julia. “I owe ye an apology, Miss Hargrove. I canna say I
understand all of what his lordship spoke of, but I was wrong about
ye, and I’m sorry. McGinty, too. She’ll have a hard time admittin’
it, but she knows she misjudged ye sorely and ‘twas without
ground.”